Serendipity
by Paper Airplanes 3
Summary: Percy, a talented but poor prodigy, with a history of secrets enters the complicated world of Half blood High Boarding School. When he meets new friends and a mysterious girl with grey eyes will his secrets catch up to him? And will Half Blood High be more than he ever bargained for? Secrets can only stay hidden for so long...


**Hi! Welcome to my first fanfiction! I can't believe you opened this story. Thank you so much! Your awesome! Not a lot of people read my writing so this is so unbelievably cool for me :)**

 **Anyway, this is a story about Percy and Annabeth, obviously, as they delve into highschool. Both of them have hidden secrets threatening to come to the surface…**

 **Percy, from a poor neighborhood in Manhattan, gains a scholarship to HB Boarding School, the school for only the insanely rich and talented. This is both a blessing and a curse as he is able to escape from dangerous secrets but is leaving his mother behind to fend for herself. He soon realizes that HB high school is more than he bargained for. But when he meets Annabeth the queen B of the school, and the rest of the gang, everything Percy held true changes.**

 **Last thing before we can start! Some small notes:**

 **All Characters belong to Rick Riordan though I have made small adjustments to the characters to fit in to the story**

 **There is a very minimal amount of cursing or swearing in this story. No sexual content, and if (which is highly unlikely) then only implied. I will let you know forehand if anything changes.**

 **I may put in some song tributes that fit to the mood of a certain scene. I'm a huge music nerd so I can not resist doing this!**

 **Enjoy!**

 **Ok, let's do this. I'm slightly nervous- I hope this goes well!**

 **-Paper**

 _Prologue_

Have you ever felt slightly detached from everything? Like you were watching life go on through a foggy window? People passing by, living their everyday ordinary lives. Except they are not ordinary. Nothing really is ordinary, but sometimes I can't help feeling like I am. Like right now, I am walking through the New York streets watching all of the people passing by me. None of them know my name and I don't know theirs. They seem absolutely normal but also so weirdly fascinating like a zoo exhibit. Sorry, I'm rambling again aren't I?

The day I left my little apartment in New York was either the smartest or the stupidest thing I've ever done. It was like jumping into a chasm, into the abyss without knowing how far you fall. I'm still falling though. But isn't falling the closest thing to flying?

…

Chapter 1

I hate the sound of my alarm clock. The sound is a mixture of the sound of a cat dying and a baby's cry. Not pleasant to wake up to.

I rubbed my eyes, and rolled out of bed, pulling my blue swim team sweater over my head as I trudge into the kitchen. I tiptoe past Mom's bedroom door, careful not to wake her up.

Our kitchen is small and old like the rest of the apartement. But it is home, so too me it looks like a million bucks. There's a small white kitchen table in the middle, its paint peeling. Mom had gotten it from a garage sale when I was ten. On the kitchen counters are piles of Jamie Oliver and Gordon Ramsay cook books. Out of the two of us Mom is the cook. On the fridge there are a bunch of photos of me and mom on the beach, and a picture of the beach house we are saving money for. A small cactus plant is living in a tiny terracotta pot by the windowsill. The cactus's head is tilted towards the window as if it is trying to peer out at the busy streets of New York City.

First things first- coffee. I can not live a day without coffee. First of all it boosts my concentration due to my ADHD and second of all its delicious. Seriously if you have never had a cup shame on you. Dishonor on you, dishonor on your family, dishonor on your cow. The whole shishkabang.

I scavenge through the kitchen cabinets until I find flower, eggs and milk. Today I have decided to make blueberry pancakes for my mom. I'm not a big cook but I can usually manage to scrape by with the outcome slightly resembling food. Except for grilled cheese sandwiches. Grilled cheese sandwiches have a personal vendetta against me.

I try to arrange the blueberries as a smiley face with no luck. They look more like a grimace to me. Oh, well, I tried. I pile them on a plate and put them on the table. There is an old frayed blue and white striped tablecloth on the table, along with a couple of peonies in a glass vase.

I here the light tapping of footsteps. Mom enters the kitchen long sleeved blue t-shirt, that could pass as a dress, and black leggings. Her dark raven hair is pulled up into a messy bun, with a pencil sticking through it. Instead of a normal person she is wearing penguin socks. Mom, being the quirky person she always was, has a slight obsession with penguins.

"Hey sweetie," Mom says wrapping her arms around me "Aww, you made me breakfast," She smiles sitting down and takes a bite of the pancakes.

She then frowns at me "What did you do?"

I hold my hands up in protest.

"Who says I did anything?"

"Sure… You trouble maker? Never. And I'm Michelle Obama." Mom smiles at me stirring a cube of sugar into her coffee.

"Ha ha, Your _so_ funny," I frown at her drowning my pancakes in Maple Syrup.

"I try"

We eat in silence for a while. Mom keeps on glancing up at me as I chew, as if she is worried that I'll disappear. It's oddly tense- Mom and I are never like this. Finally Mom clears grabs my hands and asks"So- real talk. Excited for school?"

"Eh"

What's that supposed to mean?" She asks her brow furrowing together.

"Come on honey. Talk to me?"

"Stop it," I murmur and sip a glass of orange juice. Mom keeps on staring at me, unblinkingly.

"Fine, I'm just unsure…" I say fingering the blue and white striped tablecloth "I'm not a rich kid, I'm not cool, and you know about my previous record with schools" I look up at Mom "What if I mess up? And I'm leaving you which is _so_ not cool."

I get up and run a hand through my hair, "Honestly you should just ground me! Keep me here. Private schools are so overrated. Plus what kind of a son would I be to just leave you here? What if you get robbed?"

Mom stares at me for a second " I'll get _robbed_?"

"You never know! We live in a dangerous neighborhood,"

"Percy, if that's the case then I'll just bust out my secret Mom Ninja moves,"

"Mom, you know I stopped believing that you were a undercover ninja when I was five,"

Mom pouts "Your no fun,"

"Who will you watch Harry Potter with? Who will play Hogwarts Trivia with you, and drink Butterbeer?"

"As much as I'll miss our Wednesday Potter evenings, we can move that to Sunday Percy. Plus its not like you won't come home every single weekend. This will be good for you," Mom answers a small smile dancing on her lips.

"Hmph," I say unconvinced "You'll miss me,"

"With every fiber of my being," Mom says dramatically putting her hand over her heart. I roll my eyes and carry my plate over to the dishwasher. Mom gets up and follows me.

"I will go insane without you. I will start talking to my imaginary friend Percy 2.0 and the neighbors will think I'm crazy," She says almost sinking to her knees as she follows me. In these moments I truly worry about her sanity.

"Shut up," I will _not_ smile

"Then I'll be sent to an insane asylum, where I'll be stuck in a little cold cell with only Percy 2.0 and Harry Potter and the Philosophers Stone to keep me company." Mom continues her eyes wide, mimicking a cartoon character.

"Mom?" Dang it! I smiled!

"Yes?" She answers innocently.

"Your being weird,"

"That's my job, Now come on!" She claps her hands together excitedly "Let's go through your bags and see that you have enough candy to survive for a week of private school,"

"Yes ma'am,"

…

After packing my bag, and making sure I have everything I need. I emerge from our apartment carrying an oversized duffel bag and a gigantic suitcase. We get into a car, a blue ( _obviously)_ Honda crv. Mom is practically bouncing in her seat and rambling. She can not shut up whenever she is nervous.

I half listen nodding, my head along as she talks, and look out of the window at the sea of New York traffic.

I can never tell mom this, but I'm actually kind of nervous. There are butterflies in my stomach and I feel nauseous, like that time I rode the tilt-a-whirl when I was eleven. I do not recommend it.

We finally, after what seems like forever, pull up in front of the school. It's on the very outskirts of Manhattan. The giant school building is old almost castle like, like the pretentious muggle twin of Hogwarts. A fancy black gate surrounds it as a gravel path leads up to the large dark oak doors. The grounds are gigantic, double as big as central park, and include a small lake and woods. I feel fear crawl in the back of my throat as I stare at the gates. Mom is standing next to me, shifting nervously from foot to foot. It's like we are trees rooted to the floor, unable to enter.

"You ready?" Mom asks nervously chewing on her lip,

I take a deep breath of the cold morning air; vain attempts of trying to calm myself down.

"No,"

A pause of silence,

"Now?"

"Ok," I squeak out. I feel like a little boy again and fight the urge to grab my Moms hand. As if she senses my nervousness she reaches out her arm and rubs my back rubs my back comfortingly.

Inside Halfblood Highschool everything is made up of dark walnut wood. Two Staircases with sleekly polished banisters, and lined with red carpet rise up on either side, one left, one right. In front of me is a huge hallway, dark walnut wood like everything else, and sleek glistening chandeliers lighting up the way. Farther down there were large open doors that led out to a courtyard. In the courtyard you could see students mingling around in groups wearing the traditional school uniform. Oh no, I'll have to wear a uniform!? Shoot!

By the foot of one of the staircases stood a man wearing a tweed suit. He had a comb-like mustache and a slight belly bulging under his too tight clothes.

When he saw us he sized up me and mom immediately, wrinkling his nose when he saw me, due probably to my 'angsty' teenage appearance, and widening his small beady eyes when he saw my mom.

"Hello, you must be Percy Jackson, I am Mr. D the principal of Half Blood High," Mr. D stretched out a small red hand and shook mine. "It's a pleasure to meet you,"

"Likewise,"

"If you would step into my office," says Mr.D ushering us into a small side room. Inside there was a plump leather chair and a large desk in front of a warm crackling fireplace. Though what took me back most was a large flattering painting of Mr.D beaming down at me, adorning most of the wall behind him. I think I'm going to have nightmares about this.

After a lengthy conversation of subtle questions like _I heard you were kicked out of your previous schools?_ (No duh, doesn't he have my record?) and _You have ADHD and Dyslexia?_ (enthesis on the _and_ ). Finally Mr.D seemed to have enough information and leaned back in his leather chair. He pushed a crisp document in front of Mom along with a pen that costs most of our salary.

"If I could have both of your legal guardians sign this form, we should be done here,"

"Both?" Mom asked raising her eyebrows.

"Is there no father who can vouch for him?"

"No, the father… is out of the picture,"

"And you are the mother?"

"Yes" "Why wouldn't I be?" Mom says her cheeks heating up, her voice rising up an octave slightly. I sink back in my chair a bit. I hate it when this happens. See my mom got me when she was really young, when she was sixteen. This, along with her uncle getting sick (with whom she was living with at the time), forced her to dropout of High School. Her uncle did not leave her any money so Mom had practically nothing except the clothes on her back and me. My dad being the scumbag he is, left her all by herself, and never offered any help, or recognition that I was his son. Yes, I do know who he is, but he has never offered any effort to get to know me or my mom. **(A/N Sorry! I love Poseidon, and we will see him later on in the story but for the sake of the story right now he is not portrayed in a good light!)** She started to work at a Restaurant as a dishwasher and eventually as a cook. The manager taking pity on us, gave us one of the larger closets to live in. We lived there till I was seven years old when Mom was able to get the apartment. I try to help out with the money business by working small odd jobs after school. But anyway, my mom looks more like my older sister than my mom. It's rather annoying- but I guess that's another reason we are so close. I'm practically your typical male Rory Gilmore.

"No reason," "No trouble," Mr.D says, his eyes wide as if he notices he hit a sore mark.

"Here is your schedule," Mr.D flicked a paper over to me as if he couldn't care less

 **1st- Algebra II**

 **2nd- US History**

 **3rd- Swim practice**

 **4th- English**

 **5th- Chemistry**

 **6th- Ancient Greek**

 **7th- Music**

After that Mr.D ushers us out of the office as if we were stray dogs with fleas that just happened to stumble into his office.

When we were finally alone Mom rolls her eyes "well he's nice,"

She then turns to me and wrapped me in her arms. It's strange- I'm just noticing I'm an inch taller than her.

"This is not goodbye. I hate goodbyes. This is only a see you later," she murmurs.

"Mom I'm coming home every weekend. You'll see me again in five days"

" I know" She pulls away.

"Alright, I love you, and call me if you ever need something." She says walking forward the exit.

"Got it. Love you too," I call back.

She looked back over her shoulder because that's just the way she is.

I turn back to the school. For once I feel totally and utterly alone.

 **That's a wrap! Thank you for getting so far! Sorry chapter 1 was slightly long and not a lot of action happened but I really wanted to portray Percy's character and his relationship with his mom. It's just so precious! Don't worry action will happen soon, along with wise girls appearance. ;)**

 **Feedback is appreciated! I'll try and update every week, so don't give up on me!**

 **See you later,**

 **Paper**


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